A Series of One Shots
by Yva J
Summary: These are five little stories comprised for a group, but were too short to post as individual stories.
1. The Rodeo

_Several years ago, I started writing these little BatB one shots for some list I was on. What happened is they would ask us to read a statement and finish it out as a story. I wrote about five of these as tiny humorous pieces. I decided that instead of posting each one as a separate story, I'd post of them under a single story._

_Here's hope you enjoy them._

_The first one is a what if scenario if Catherine decided to go out with Joe Maxwell. The poor DA has definitely had better days. _

* * *

**The Rodeo**

By Yva J.

_He stood at the mirror trying to gage the effect he would have on her…_

Joe Maxwell sighed deeply. Catherine Chandler had agreed to attend an important convention with him and he was absolutely nervous about it. OK, she thought it was going to be business engagement. Somehow he had failed to mention that the man who had invited him to the event was a famous rodeo rider out of Austin, Texas. He had insisted that Joe attend only to see him ride and possibly get killed being thrown from the back of an angry bull.

Some convention dinner, he thought. Actually all that the evening was going to consist of would be horses, bulls, horrible tasting beer, and chilli dogs.

OK, he thought to himself frowning at the image in the mirror. So I fudged a little and said that it was a convention when it actually was going to be a rodeo. She'll either see the humor in this situation or never want to speak to me again, he thought. After a second, he swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.

I have to plan this just right, he continued to contemplate, as he smiled at the reflection in the large mirror. If I don't she's gonna laugh in my face…

…I wonder if dressing the part is going to be fitting for this evening, he thought as he buttoned up a plaid shirt. It can't hurt, he mused softly to himself once he had tucked it into the pair of stone-wash blue jeans. This was certainly not the same as his usual suit and tie, he thought, but maybe a change in my wardrobe was finally in order. Maybe she might actually notice the effort I put into it.

He continued fussing over his appearance and reached over and grabbed a light brown leather belt, which had a silver belt buckle about the size of the Houston Astrodome affixed to it. He wove it through the loops on his jeans and once he managed the hook the chunk of metal to the area around his belly, he ran his index fingers through the belt loops and continued to stare into the mirror as though he was John Wayne.

Next, he reached for a leather turquoise Indian made strap, which would hang loosely around his neck and dangle down to his belly.

Satisfied that he looked the part of an authentic Texas cowboy, he smiled as he briefly glanced down and could see the final touches of this evening's ensemble.

Before leaving his room, he hesitated, all the while trying to contemplate his options. Glancing back in the direction of the mirror, his gaze landed on the items still on top of his dresser. Sighing deeply, he shook his head decisively.

Maybe the spurs and the ten-gallon hat would be a mistake, he thought to himself. I certainly don't want to overdo it.


	2. The Rose

_This is what happens when Vincent gives Catherine a symbol of love...a red rose._

* * *

**  
**

**The Rose**

_Her eyes widened when he revealed what he held in his hands… _

"How ever did you manage to get this?" she finally asked after a few moments had passed.

Vincent smiled slightly, "I found it in the tunnel underneath your apartment building. I do not really know how it got there, but I thought of you the moment I saw it, dear Catherine."

"But, how could a healthy red rose be in the tunnel, unless someone dropped it?" she asked cradling the small bud. After some moments of silence passed, she spoke again. "Oh what does it matter, it's lovely and I know what it means. It means you love me." Her eyes shone brightly as she cradled the small rose bud in her hand.

For almost an instant, Vincent looked more like a shy little boy than a grown man. After a few moments of silence passed between then, he looked at her, "I care for you so much, my dear Catherine." The words he said, were not the words she had expected to hear, but when she looked in his eyes, she realized that they were telling her far more than his words ever could.

"I love you, Vincent," she whispered softly. "I treasure you, more than I do this rose. You are more than my love, you are my hero, my knight in shining armor all that I am, I am because of you."

"Catherine," he sputtered. "This cannot be true."

"Of course it's true, I wouldn't be saying it if it wasn't. I love you, Vincent, why can't you see that?"

"Look at me," he said softly.

"I am, and what I see goes beyond this," she rested her hand against his cheek. "I see what is here," she moved her hand so that it rested on his chest over his heart. "The beauty is there, Vincent, it always will be, and that is what I love. You are who I love. I do not have a red rose to give you which would symbolize my love for you, but it certainly is there, did you not see the symbol of love when you gave this to me? In all the poetry you read, and all the sonnets you recite, surely you could see the symbol of a deep endearing love through the symbol of a red rose."

Vincent looked away for a moment, her words frightening him.

"Why can't you look at me?" she finally asked noticing that he had turned away. "Do you not love me? Is this rose simply something you found on the ground that you brought to me as a way of making me happy?" she looked over at him, but all she could see was the mane of reddish-blonde hair that hung down over his shoulders, concealing his face.

When he finally looked back over at her, he could see that in her eyes was an indescribable sadness, he reached over to her and rested his hand on her shoulder. When she finally looked up and her eyes met his own, he spoke, "I love you, Catherine." To reemphasize his point, he leaned down to her and planted a gentle kiss on her waiting lips.


	3. The Spider

_This is sad, over 100 views and no reviews._

_Oh well, no big deal, here's the next one. It may seem out of character for Vincent, but these were written several years ago, and I think they are rather fun to write._

_Please let me know what you think, but do enjoy. This one is about something that quite of few ladies can probably relate to._

_Hope you like. The arachnid reference has been changed...thanks Elizabeth Hensley for catching that. _

* * *

**The Spider**

_Catherine awoke to something slowly but steadily moving up her bare leg._

When she pulled the blanket away, she could see a large, black, hairy spider. "Ahhh..." her cries seemed to fill Vincent's chamber as she attempted to swipe the offending insect away. As these frightened sounds resonated throughout the Tunnels, they brought Vincent rushing into the chamber.

"Catherine, what is it?" he asked, his voice filled with concern when he saw her wiping her hand frantically down her legs and eventually he could see the spider landing on the floor.

"There was a spider in here," she whispered as she self-consciously shuddered.

"I see," Vincent offered coming over to the bed and towering over her. "I thought it might have been something much bigger. From the way you screamed, I thought for a moment that you were in danger."

"You may think I'm just a coward, but I don't like spiders at all." She began to pull the bedding away to see if there were anymore hairy arachnids in the bed. When she discovered there were none, she sighed with relief. After several seconds, she looked at him somewhat sheepishly before jerking the covers back up over her lap.

Vincent chuckled, the amusement emerging from deep in his throat. "I don't frighten you, but a very tiny eight-legged spider does?"

"Vincent, that's not fair," Catherine complained. "It wasn't just that there was a spider, but I could feel it tickling my leg and it felt weird. You know that spiders and me don't get along, so why have you suddenly decided to give me a hard time about it?"

Vincent smiled slightly, and sat down next to the bed, his eyes dancing merrily. He had every intention of playing this for all it was worth. "So you were tickled, hmm?"

"Yes," she offered and noticing his expression, she looked away from him somewhat embarrassed. "Sorry if I interrupted something pressing. I guess I didn't expect to wake up to having a tarantula in my bed."

"No, I suppose not," Vincent said, but before he could say anything else Catherine let out another yelp as she felt something else against her leg.

"What ever is the matter, Catherine?" Father asked when he stopped in the tunnel and was now standing in the doorway of Vincent's chamber.

"She saw a spider," Vincent said, "but, I think she'll be OK."

"OK, well don't be late for breakfast, you two," he said and continued down the corridor towards the dining chamber.

Once Father was gone, Catherine looked at him. "How can you be so calm with all those spiders crawling around here?"

"There aren't any spiders, Catherine," Vincent said softly.

"Then what was that against my leg?" she asked. "A giant dust-bunny?"

Vincent pulled the blankets aside, and when Catherine looked down at her leg, she discovered what had caused her to scream the second time, and her face flushed crimson. Vincent had stuck his hand under the covers, the back of his hand was gently touching Catherine's bare leg, the fur from it now brushing ever so lightly over her skin.

"Happy Halloween, Catherine," He said gently and she could see in his other hand, he was holding a small spider figure that was hanging from a thin rubber band. "Now do you believe me when I tell you there are no spiders here?"

Catherine looked at him and upon discovering that she was now the butt of the joke, she couldn't decide what she would have preferred to have done. Part of her wanted to throw him head-first down the whispering cavern, the other part wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold him.

As he discarded the spider, he reached down, took her hands and pulled her gently up and into his arms. The angry thoughts melted away. She knew deep down inside that he would never do anything to intentionally hurt her.

After a couple of seconds in his arms, she cuddled up to him as she began to think about the past two years with him. She knew now that he was allowing her to see a part of him that she had never known. Not only had she become acquainted with his beautiful poetic soul, now she was learning that he had something else - a positively endearing sense of humor.


	4. Checkmate

_Thanks for the reviews, I hope you enjoy the next installment._

* * *

**Checkmate**

"_What I'm going to say may come as a surprise, but,_ there was once a time I had actually beaten you at chess, Vincent," Father said. He took his glasses off and rubbed them with a handkerchief before putting them back on and arranging the figures on the chessboard.

"When was that?" Vincent asked. He didn't add that he simply could not remember the last time Father had actually beaten him at chess. How old had he been, maybe fifteen or sixteen? It was clear that this particular memory of an event had faded from his consciousness.

"Yes, it was some years ago, but I have not given up on the possibility that history will repeat itself," Father answered smiling.

"Yes, I seem to recall hearing the same thing when I read that book on World War I," Vincent said softly sitting down at the table in Father's study. "I also recall that William learned this when he left a plate of cookies unattended in the dining chamber last weekend."

"What are you driving at?" Father asked.

"Well, if you know the tactics of your opponent, than you will discover the deeply hidden secrets. Today, I found that William had hidden them in the cupboard to prevent the children from finding them before tonight."

"What are you saying, that because you have found all the cookies that you have also learned all my best moves?" Father asked trying to find the hidden meaning behind his son's words.

Vincent pulled a napkin from his pocket, and inside revealed six chocolate chip cookies. "If one is truly hungry for cookies, they will discover every single hiding place, thus repeating history. It is also the same as knowing your tactics when it comes to chess."

Father stood up and sighed deeply, there was simply too much truth in Vincent's words. Instead of even trying to make any sort of argument, he opted to change the subject completely. "So what do you have planned for this evening? I figured that you were going to go above again and visit Catherine."

"She had a convention to attend," Vincent said not helping but noticing the sarcasm in Father's voice. "We agreed to see each other tomorrow."

"That's nice," Father said somewhat uncomfortably as he sat back down in his favorite chair. Both knew that he did not like Vincent's frequent excursions above. Instead of voice his opposition to his son's reckless behavior, he reached for one of the pawns on the board and moved it forward two squares. "So what do you say? Would you like to see history repeat itself?"

Vincent smiled, "yes, but chances are, whatever happens, history will do just that. Either I will find all the places where William's cookies are hidden, or you will be responsible for a world wide conflict."

Father grimaced, but after a few moments, instead of making any sort of comeback, he looked at Vincent. "It's your go," was all he said.


	5. Hairy Surprises

_OK, folks, this is the last one...and, of course, my favorite. If you can just imagine. _

_ Enjoy and please let me know what you think. _

* * *

**  
**

**Hairy Surprises**

"_You can open your eyes now,_ Vincent," Jamie said triumphantly. "I'm done."

When he finally did open his eyes, he could see that she was holding a mirror up and he could see that his entire mane of blonde hair was in very small braids. "What have you done?" he asked after the initial shock wore off.

"I saw a picture of Bob Marley in a magazine one of the helpers gave to me, and I wanted to see how it would look," she said. "I couldn't very well do my own hair like this, so I thought maybe you would like a new look."

Vincent continued to stare at the mirror, his eyes widening in horror as he beheld his reflection. What would Father say, or worse yet, what would Catherine think? Would they even notice?

Of course they would, it would be impossible not to notice. "Jamie, you have to undo these braids," he finally said.

"Oh please, just for tonight, It took me so long to do them," she looked crestfallen in the fact that he did not seem pleased with what she had done. "I'll take them down tomorrow, I promise."

Vincent looked down at her and could see the hopeful look in her eyes. After a moment of silence passed, he nodded. "OK, but first thing tomorrow morning."

Once they had made the agreement, Jamie bounded out of his chamber and Vincent was left alone, though not for long. Seconds after the girl had left, Father came in wanting to know if he would be interested in another chess match.

"Good heavens, what happened to you?" Father asked once he saw the braids in Vincent's usually flowing blonde hair.

"Jamie wanted to give me a new hairdo," he said, his face lined in absolute embarrassment.

"Has she lost her mind?" Father asked coming rather close to loosing his temper.

"Don't be too angry at her, she only wanted to make me happy," he began. "Besides, she did promise to undo them first thing tomorrow morning."

"I certainly hope so, this look doesn't suit you," Father said as Vincent grabbed his cloak. He knew what this meant; Vincent was going to visit Catherine again. He stifled a smile when he started contemplating what Catherine would say when she saw the hundreds of braids now hanging down over Vincent's shoulders.

* * *

When he arrived at Catherine's apartment, Vincent was suddenly overcome with shyness. He could only contemplate his very strange appearance, but could also feel the weighted down braids against his neck. What will she say when she sees this, he asked himself? How will she react? 

Taking a deep breath, he tapped on her balcony door. Moments later, he could see her coming to open it. Once she did, he smiled slightly.

"Vincent! I'm so glad to see you," she wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his shoulder, only to feel the hard braids, which now replaced the soft mane she was accustomed to.

She withdrew from him and looked at him closely, her eyes wide. "What happened to you? You look like Bob Marley."

"Jamie wanted to experiment and I was the lucky volunteer," he said. "You don't like it, do you?"

"It will take some getting used to," Catherine admitted softly.

"Jamie said she'd take it down tomorrow morning," he began. "She was so disappointed when she realized that I didn't really like it. She had spent all afternoon working on it. To appease her, I promised her that I would keep it for the night."

"You're so kind, Vincent," Catherine said gently. "To me it doesn't really matter. If you like walking around with braids, then I can accept it. What did Father say?"

"He thought Jamie had lost her mind," he answered.

Catherine giggled, "I can imagine that he was less than pleased."

Vincent looked at her, "Catherine, do you like it?"

"It's OK, but if Jamie promised to take them out tomorrow, I think you should let her do it," she smiled weakly. "There are certain hairdos that just don't suit you, my beloved."

Vincent nodded and smiled weakly. At least the worst of it was now behind him…or so he thought…


End file.
